A Victim of Unforseen Consequences
by Dawley
Summary: Meet Ben Anderson. Average scientist working an average job at the Black Mesa Research Facility. What could possibly go wrong...?


**A/N:** Well, it's been a while (onlyabouttenmonthsorsocoughcough) since I last uploaded a story. But, seeing as school's just finished, my inspiration to write again has kicked off into overdrive. This is one of the first things that I've written in, literally, months... so I think it's fitting that it's based on my favourite videogame. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Half-Life. Half-Life is the property of Valve Software. I own all original characters and settings, however, and you will need my permission to use them.

**A Victim of Unforseen Consquences**

**Part I - Office**

Ben Anderson was vaguely aware of something dripping on his face. He groaned, then tried to prop himself up on his elbows. He'd barely started to do so before his back bumped into something cold and solid, suspended directly above his back.

The dripping continued.

Anderson shook his head and opened his eyes. His office was dark, almost pitch-black. An emergency light was flashing irregularly, somewhere above his body. He glanced up and saw that he was lying in between his desk and the filing cabinets that sat behind it. All three had fallen forward and were held up off the ground by the edge of the desk.

_What the hell happened?_

Shakily, Anderson eased his way out of the small space behind his desk. He continued backwards until he was out completely, then shifted to a sitting position. A dull throbbing started up in his forehead and Anderson raised his hand up, cradling his head for a few seconds. When he took the hand back down, he could just make out a dark liquid on his fingers.

_Holy shit, that's my blood,_ was the first thing to flash through Anderson's mind. He had no proof of it – hell, it could have just been whatever had been dripping on his face from before, and it looked red in the dull emergency light – but, somehow, he knew he was right.

He was bleeding.

Standing up shakily, Anderson took a brief look around the office. It was a fairly small one when compared so some of the others at the facility; the desk sat at one wall, a computer and a large bookcase at the other. The right side of the office was covered in a set of windows, revealing the corridor (and the other offices) that sat outside.

Anderson stumbled over to the windows, his head throbbing violently. When he got to the window and peered outside, he could see the both the hallway and the office opposite to his were bathed in the strobing red light.

_Something bad has happened_, he thought. _Something_ _really, _really_ bad has happened._

It seemed obvious from the outset, but Anderson was only just beginning to realise the fact. He could vaguely remember what had happened earlier in the morning; he had breakfast in the scientist's lounge, then headed to his office. It had been around 10:30 when he felt a rumble, then the entire office shook violently and he had been thrown out of his chair. Then there had been a sharp pain and everything had gone black...

Anderson took a quick glance at his watch. It was just past 11:30.

It had all happened less than an hour ago.

Anderson shook his head, touching the deep cut on his forehead gingerly, and headed over to the door's electronic lock. He reached into his pocket and fumbled around for his keycard, and when he had it he slid it down the lock and tapped in his ID code.

Nothing happened.

_Oh, wait. Shit, the power's out, of course..._

Anderson groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. All of the locks in Black Mesa, save for some of the older ones on the surface, were electronic. And seeing as the emergency lights were on...

He kicked the door hard, letting out a frustrated growl.

Anderson winced at the pain – he wasn't sure if it was from his foot or the forehead – then sat down with his back against the wall. The emergency lights strobed continuously, making him feel disoriented. But despite the dire outlook of the situation, Anderson didn't feel any real panic. His mind looked towards a logical solution for what had happened. He thought that there might have been some kind of an accident which had knocked out the power in this level of the facility, and probably others. An earthquake in the middle of New Mexico seemed unlikely as the cause, but an industrial accident in one of the lower levels did. Anderson had seen heavy-duty explosives on the surface before, and it was known that they were used to clear away rubble or excavate areas.

Yes, that was it. An industrial accident.

Of course.

That was when Anderson heard the faint thump, from somewhere outside the office.

Anderson frowned, then turned around and stood on his knees, peering out into the hallway. The emergency lights still strobed. Every time they did the area was cast into an eerie red light and then into gloom, over and over again. Pools of water were scattered on the floor from the sprinkler system; Anderson could see them still dripping water.

_This is a god-damned catastrophe,_ he thought to himself.

But he had heard a thump, from somewhere outside.

Determined to find the source of it – hopefully, it was a rescuer coming down to free him – Anderson cupped his hands to the glass and peered out, looking intently for the source of the thump. And if it wasn't a rescuer, at least he could be reassured that the accident hadn't been as bad as he thought.

It took him a few seconds to notice the silhouette in the other office.

At first he had assumed it was the shadow of a filing cabinet being cast onto the window, or even a stain of some kind. But as he watched it for a few moments, it moved.

The silhouette raised up a hand and tapped the glass lightly. It made a light _thump_ as it did so.

Anderson felt his heartbeat speed up. There was someone down here with him!

_Oh thank God, thank God...!_

Shakily, Anderson stood up and peered closely at the figure behind the glass. He could _definitely_ make out the arms and the bulge of the head, though he couldn't make out any details. The emergency light in the opposite office was casting light forward, from the figure's back, thus hiding any details.

Anderson smiled with relief, then began rapping the glass window with his hand. He saw the figure stop moving, then it turned in his direction. To his joy, he saw that the person was tapping on the glass back at him!

Then, somewhere on the ceiling of the hallway, one of the lights blew. The hallway flashed brightly for a few moments, casting light onto the front of the figure's body.

Richard's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

_...oh my God._

That thought ran through his head over and over again, as he mentally replayed what he had just seen.

The person, whoever they were, was messed up.

The flash had revealed that their shirt was covered in blood, so much so that it almost made the shirt look like it was naturally red. The person's chest looked like a bomb had hit it, as it was torn open and split. Large chunks of something like shrapnel had been embedded all along the edges of the wound.

Then there was the head, that... that massive _thing_ that had been sitting there-

The light flashed again, revealing the figure again in all its hideous, blood-stained glory. Something yellow-coloured was covering the person's face, with two deep red sticks poking out of the front and onto the collar. Now the person was _thrashing_ at the glass, pummelling at it violently. It bashed its hands and head against the glass, sending blood spurting out in a grisly star pattern-

Anderson dropped to the ground, turned away, and vomited.

He curled up against the wall, crouched beneath the windows, lying there for a few minutes. He felt repulsed, shocked... stunned... everything.

Something _really_ bad had happened. If it could turn a person into-

_WHAM._

Anderson shrieked and jumped up, scrambling away from the wall on his rear. The person was now at his office window and was bashing at the glass.

_Oh Christ it's at my office window._

Surprisingly, the thought went through Richard's head calmly, slowly, like his mind had registered the fact long after his body. As soon as it dawned on him fully, he let out a terrified wail and scooted back to the wall, pressing himself against it as hard as he could.

The person let out a noise like a snarl, slightly muffled by the thick glass, and then bashed on it a second time.

Now that the emergency lights of Anderson's office were shining onto their front, he could make out the details quite clearly. Whatever the gigantic wound on the person's chest was, it was moving. It seemed to open and close, scraping loudly against the glass whenever the person pressed up against it. And the person's hands were mutilated. Their fingertips were nothing but mangled stubs of meat, with something long and bony sticking out of them. The bony protrusions looked more like _claws_ than anything else, sticking several inches out of the fingers.

Anderson felt the bile begin to rise up in his throat again and he swallowed, letting out a terrified whimper.

The person seemed to pause, its hands dropping back down to its sides. Then it began to bash at the window with renewed vigour, snarling and moaning as it did. Anderson was petrified, unable to move or tear his eyes away from the hideous person in front of him. Then he saw the cracks begin to form under the person's repeated hits.

_Oh shit, that isn't good,_ he thought to himself.

Suddenly, Anderson felt trapped. He felt like a rabbit in a burrow, listening as a pair of vicious dogs ripped apart the entrance to get to him. Whatever was going to happen to him when that person got in, it would be horrible. And there was no way out. None. At _all_-

It would have been funny, had the situation not seemed so grim. Anderson suddenly remembered the air vent which sat behind his filing cabinets.

Almost without thinking about it, he jumped up and scrambled over his desk. Sure enough, there it was: a wide ventilation grille where his filing cabinets had been standing about an hour before. He reached for the grille and tugged at it, but soon found it wouldn't budge.

The person outside let out a load moan, then snarled again and started batting at the glass.

That startled Anderson into thinking. He saw the screws holding the grille into place and quickly chastised himself for being so stupid, then turned around to his desk and rummaged across it for something to unscrew them with.

There was a massive cracking noise from the window. A huge, crooked line now spanned the width of the glass pane. Anderson frantically searched for something, like a fountain pen, or a coin-

Anderson paused, then reached into his pocket. He dug around for a few moments, finally pulling out something with his hand: a coin. Small and thin, thin enough to fit into the gap of the screw. He jumped back over to the grille and pressed the coin onto the first screw, urgently turning it.

There was another crack, but this time it was longer, sounding like the entire _window_ was splintering.

Anderson let out a panicked cry and twisted the coin around even faster, the first screw finally coming loose and falling out. He quickly moved to the second one, taking it out as well, then to the third. There was another harsh crack from the window, and the sounds of the person grew louder. He could practically hear it snorting and wheezing, now, could almost imagine those long, clawed fingers wrapping around his shoulders-

The third screw popped out the instant the glass shattered.

Anderson whipped his head around just in time to see the person fall into his office, making a soft _splat_ sound as it did so. He heard it make a moaning noise, and then it began to stand up clumsily. As if it was blind.

Anderson grabbed the grille and rotated it upwards, as if it was on a hinge. Then he dove inside it head-first, scrambling like a poor bastard as quickly as he could. Thankfully, the vent was wide enough for him to half-crawl along through.

Finally, his heart began to slow down.

Anderson crawled urgently through the tunnel, not wanting to slow down in case that... that _thing_ was close behind. Panic was still in the back of his throat, acidic and burning.

He had to find out what the hell was going on, and quick.

x-x-x

**A/N:** Reviews and crits are greatly appreciated. Thanks! :)


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